


On The Roof Top

by SarkaS



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst and Fluff, Blood and Gore, Caring Peter Parker, Cuddling & Snuggling, Getting Together, M/M, Not Beta Read, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 23:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6133294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SarkaS/pseuds/SarkaS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for Spideypool Exchange 2016. <br/>MsHollowfox asked for Spideypool watching over the town from the roof tops while sharing food, general fluff like hugs, kisses and the like,... <br/>Ehm, I tried... Somehow I manage to switch from fluff to angst and then back again. No idea how that happened. Really. But here, have at it, some food sharing, some angst and some comfort. I even managed the kiss part somewhere in there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On The Roof Top

“Baby Boy!” Wade exclaimed the moment Peter landed on their typical Tuesday roof. Not that it’s Tuesday today. Or was the last time. Or that time before, if he should be quite honest. Why were they calling it Tuesday roof, again?

“How’s it swinging?” Deadpool chuckled at his own horrible pun.

“Never heard that one before,” Peter rolled his eyes, even if it was kind of pointless with his mask still on. But he couldn’t completely push fondness out oh his voice, and he was smiling, too. Which, Peter was pretty sure, was Wade’s main goal in the first place.

He tiredly flopped down next to Deadpool and sighed contently. (And wasn’t _that_  something he would never believed to be possible several months ago. Or even consider, to be absolutelly honest. At all.)

“That bad, huh?” Wade gave him a knowing look, and Peter knew exactly what look that was, no matter the merc’s mask was rolled up to barely uncover his mouth.

“Did you by some miracle miss the news? Or the smoke?” Although, there always were New Yorkers, who had no idea aliens roamed through the streets of their city - and no, he didn’t mean Thor - he would never expect Deadpool to be one of them. The mercenary‘s always known what was happening around him. At all times.

Wade scoffed. “Sure I saw. Both. But one would thought you’re used to all the alien shit by now.”

Peter swatted at him. “I am. Doesn’t make it any less tiresome, though. We could’ve use some help.” He gave Wade meaningful look.

“Nah. You’re doing well enough without. I watched. I saw your spider ass in action, you were cool. No need for little ol’ me to steal your spotlight.”

“You wish,” Peter smirked, but didn’t push the matter any further, instead he caught the hot dog Wade tossed him and nodded his thanks.

“Please,” Wade drawled, “as if the Avenge-squad could handle my awesome! The high and mighty would crumble under the pressure to reach my levels of fabulous, and then whole planet would burn in flames of alien invasion. And seriously, what’s up with the flame up during invasions? Why would you burn something you’re trying to win for yourself? Someone should have word with their management.”

“Aliens, you know, maybe they like their planets extra crispy.” Peter shrugged and crumpled the greasy paper while gesturing for another dog. “So, how was your day, honey?” He asked, when Deadpool handed it over. “Catching up on the Golden Girls rerun?”

Wade snorted. “I wish, Spidey-boy. Nope. Had some business with several of Taskmaster lackeys. _Booooring._ Seriously, it’s like he’s not even trying to train them anymore. Dropping like flies. Where is the fun in that, tell me?!”

“You unalived them?” Peter asked with as much neutrality in his voice as he could muster. Wade tried - and Peter damn well knew he did it mostly for him - but he still had bad days. Sometimes bad weeks. Peter tried not to be too harsh with him, when that happened. It’s not like you can change decades old habits in a few months, or even a year. Not even if you are completely sane, which Wade wasn’t. Still, it made chills run down his spine, when he heard Deadpool killed someone.

“Nah,” Deadpool waved his hand as if chasing away particularly annoying fly, “just some maiming and crippling. Blowed away some kneecaps, few fingers, you know, same old shit. Nothing they won’t survive.”

Peter smiled. “Thank you. I’m proud of you.” 

He said it every time. Every time Wade chose not to kill. Not to take a job. And he was absolutely serious every single time he said it. Wade just laughed it off, never believing that sincerity. But the more Peter’s been saying it, the less Wade protested. He still tried to laugh it off, sure, but now, his body language spoke less of a not believing and more of a tentative gratitude. 

“Sheesh, Baby Boy, it’s not like you haven’t had enough killing for today, no need to adding up to that. ‘S not a big deal.”

Peter decided not to voice, how ‘big of a deal’ it’s for him. Instead he simply bumped his shoulder against Wade’s and smiled softly as the mercenary fell into a stream of his typical, only half sane, babble.

\-----

Wade pulled his katanas out of the last attacker and watched the corpse crumble on the floor covered with glistening crimson.

He didn’t want to look up, knowing too well what’s waiting for him. And surely, when he finally did look up, Spider-man was standing right there. He seemed so out of place amongst the bloody carcasses, it seemed almost ridiculous, like something out of Wade’s head. Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t real. Maybe-

/Give it up, already. We are fucked. He’s gonna hate us, now./

[We _did_ promise not to kill.]

Wade did promise, yeah. And he meant to hold his word. He did not expect the young secretary to get into the crossfire. He forgot there are people, who won’t stop shooting just because they could hit someone they didn’t intend to.

[That’s what happens, when one spends too much time with superheroes.]

/Yeah! Normal people are dicks. Scum people, like us, are huge dicks. And killers! And we liiiike it!/

He’s going to walk away this time. Spidey’s gonna give up.

/Can’t blame him. We are fucked up!/

[He already lost too much time on us.]

/’S not like likes us, anyway. Spidey’s only pitying us./

[Or trying to distract us from making even more messes.]

We tend to do that, yeah. Guess it had to end someday. More likely sooner than later.

“Wade.” Spider-man’s voice was soft, almost tentative.

[We probably scare him. Look at us.]

Wade did. The blood was making his suit look darker and slightly shiny. Almost pretty. All of it maybe not clearly visible from afar, but this close no one could miss it.

Shame hit him like Thor’s hammer. Spidey shouldn’t have to seen him like this.

“Wade, come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

That made him look up, again.

“What?”

Spidey gestured to Wade’s body.

“You should clean up. We can take care of your wounds, too. I know we don’t have to, just… It would make me feel better.”

What?

/Is this real? Are we hallucinating? I knew that Chinese tasted weird!/

[Maybe it’s not Spider-man. Doppelganger? Magic?]

“Come on,” Spidey took his hand and tugged, seemingly oblivious to the bloodshed around them.

And Wade went. He followed Peter out of the building and away from his painfully obvious failure.

Peter didn’t let go the whole time, and successfully rendered Wade and boxes speechless.

After he cleaned up blood from Wade’s suit and body, after he cleaned his already healing wounds, after he tucked Wade under his own blanket in his own bed, after all that it finally came to Wade. Maybe he’s not leaving yet after all. Maybe he’s even crazier than Wade is.

\-----

They sat on their Tuesday-but-not-really-Tuesday-more-like-anyday roof, munching on the tacos Peter picked up half way through the patrol, watching awfully lively New Yorkers down in the streets going after their business spite the late, or probably really early, hour. Wade was chattering away about Avengers themed Smurfs and bigass tv stations, that should pull their heads out of their asses and take the chance to get filthy rich before someone else does. Even if just for the idea of Smurf Stark roaming the screens of all American homes. 

The genius billionaire would have a fit. His hatred for little blue people like creatures was fairly recent and not wildly known, but somehow Deadpool knew, and his new mission in life was to leave Stark a small Brainy Smurf somewhere in the Tower every time he got a chance.

Somewhere in the middle of his rant Peter leaned closer, only to leave soft kiss on the side of Wade’s uncovered neck. Just a chaste little thing, so he could feel the rough hot skin under his lips. The pulse of Wade’s heart. Something that would make this all feel unarguably real.

The mercenary stopped dead for a moment, his whole body going rigid. But Peter just leaned bit more into him and cussioned his head on Wade’s shoulder. He continued to chew on his tacos, absolutely content, feeling warm and safe as ever, with Wade be his side.

After few more seconds he felt Wade breathe out and relax. “Smurf Fury, can you imagine that, Baby Boy?”


End file.
